


Two Loves, One True

by tjmystic



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-07
Updated: 2013-02-07
Packaged: 2017-11-28 12:55:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/674629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tjmystic/pseuds/tjmystic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sir Maurice hires the wife of a sea merchant to be his little girl's nanny</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two Loves, One True

Two Loves, One True

For undergreatwhite, who asked for a Belle vs. Milah fic (it kind of got away from me, though, and turned more into a Belle vs. Milah & Hook fic)

Rating: PG-13, because Milah is super inappropriate 

Author’s Note: I’m not sure that this qualifies as fluff, but it certainly made me laugh while I was writing it. Anyway, the basic idea here is that, when Belle was a very little girl, Maurice hired the wife of a “sea merchant” to be her nanny. I understand that this probably couldn’t have happened (I believe that Rum took his wife’s heart only a few years after he lost Bae), but please indulge me anyway ;) Alright, best get on with it. Hope you enjoy, husband:

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“But I don’t want a nanny, Papa!” Belle shouted. She was eight, almost a full-grown woman, so she could very well do what she wanted. Unfortunately, Sir Maurice didn’t share that opinion. 

“I know you don’t, my girl,” he groaned, pushing back his almost invisibly thin hair. “But I’ve got to lead our troops and I can’t leave you here alone.”

“Just send Gaston’s papa,” she argued. She didn’t particularly like the man – he had a nasty mustache and looked at her funny – but at least he was easy to trick. 

Maurice shook his head no. “You don’t just need a protector, Belle, you need a role model while I’m gone. I don’t know how long I’ll be, and I’ll need somebody to teach you how to be a lady. It will be more difficult than I anticipated, now that… that –”

“You mean now that Mama’s dead,” Belle said simply, trying not to cry. The cook had told her that little ladies don’t cry, not even when their mama’s can never come back, and Belle ought to learn that lesson fast. 

Maurice noticed anyway; he always did. 

“I’m sorry, my girl,” he muttered, drawing her onto his knee. ”I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Belle wiped at her eyes. ”It’s okay, Papa. I’ll get a nanny if you want me to.”

He kissed her forehead and helped her clean her face. ”No need, dear. I already picked one out for you.” He nodded at the posted guard, who bowed with an almighty clanking noise before departing. Barely three seconds later, he returned with a voluptuous woman with brown hair a little darker than Belle’s own.

“Belle, I’d like to introduce you to Missus Jones,” Maurice said, leading her towards the new nanny. They both curtsied at each other then quickly turned back to Maurice. “She’ll be looking after you from tonight until I return.”

Belle blinked in disbelief. ”Tonight?”

Maurice looked mournfully into her eyes and nodded.

“But it’s nighttime, Papa,” she argued feebly.

Maurice hugged her yet again. ”I know. But we can’t wait any longer, Belle. We have to keep the ogres back.”

Belle wrapped her arms around his beefy neck. ”I don’t want you to go,” she whispered.

“I have to, my girl. But I’ll be back before you know it, I promise.”

He managed to disentangle himself from his little girl, but only just. 

“You take good care of her, Missus Jones,” he commanded, once more the knight in the face of his armies. 

“Of course, sir,” she answered sweetly. Belle liked her accent - it was almost like hers and her Papa’s. ”I’ll treat her like she was my own.”

“I’ll hold you to that. Now, I must be off. I love you, my girl.”

“I love you, too, Papa.”

Maurice didn’t stay any longer, obviously too afraid that he or his daughter would start crying again. The sound the door made when it closed sounded so very final that it made Belle’s heart hurt. She turned around graciously when the woman behind her coughed - she needed a distraction if she was to be a not-crying lady. 

“Well, I suppose it’s your bedtime,” Missus Jones said, clapping her hands together. ”Might you show me to your room?”

Belle nodded mournfully but the led the way down the hall. Thankfully, her room was only a few doors down - she didn’t think she could make it much further.

Thankfully, Missus Jones opened the door for her, leaning back on the heavy wood to let Belle in. She gave the woman a grateful smile as she hopped into bed, tearing off her heavy skirts as she laid down. Missus Jones gave the patterned silk a look that Belle didn’t like at all, something that bordered on greed.

“I’m sure you have lots of pretty jewelry, don’t you little girl?” 

“My name’s Belle.”

The woman’s smile flickered, but it returned full-force almost immediately. ”Sorry, Miss Belle. Now, the jewelry?”

Belle nodded excitedly. ”Oh yes. I’ve earrings, and bangles, and tiaras, and all sorts of other things. I never wear them, though. The only one I ever put on is my mama’s diamond necklace.”

Missus Jones’s eyes sparkled. ”Diamonds, you said?”

“Well, one diamond. It’s barely a chip, but it’s supposed to be really special.” She leaned in close, dragging the sheets with her. ”She said papa got it for her from a dragon’s lair.”

“Is that so?” the woman smiled. 

Before Belle could confirm it, the woman had turned to rifle through her closet. Belle didn’t particularly appreciate having someone look through her things, but she didn’t complain - it was probably just a nanny thing, and it would be rude to argue about it.

“What are you looking for?” she asked instead, ready to get up and help if her nanny needed it.

The woman didn’t even look at her. ”Rule number one,” she droned, “ladies do not speak unless spoken to.”

“Alright. Now, what are you looking for?”

She angrily threw her hands to her sides. ”What did I just say?”

Belle shrank back in fear - why was the woman so suddenly mad at her? She’d seemed so pleasant not even a moment earlier.

“You said no speaking unless spoken to. You spoke to me, so that means I can talk.” 

Missus Jones glared at her, but at least she didn’t yell again. Instead, she returned to Belle’s closet and continued rifling through her dresses.

Belle knew when she was being ignored. With a nervous little shake, she rolled onto her side and faced the wall, holding her pillows close. Her papa really had to have been desperate to find someone fast, she thought - he’d never let such a woman take care of her otherwise. 

With Missus Jones rummaging in the background, she found it even harder than usual to get to sleep. She tossed and turned for what felt like hours before she finally gave it up and turned around. Maybe she’d just made her nanny angry before - the woman couldn’t possibly be mad at her now. 

“I’d like a bedtime story, Missus Jones,” Belle said politely, snuggling herself deeper into her sheets.

The nanny groaned. ”Can’t you just go to sleep?”

Belle shook her head no. ”Mama used to read to me every night before bed. I’ve… I’ve not been sleeping well since she died.”

Something in Missus Jones’s face changed at that, but Belle couldn’t quite figure out what it was. If she had to guess, she’d say it looked almost like guilt. 

“Fine,” the woman sighed. ”But just one story. I’ve got work to do.”

Belle smiled happily and cuddled into her pillow.

“Once upon a time,” Missus Jones started dryly, “there was a beautiful young woman who wanted nothing more than to see the world. But alas, her family was poor, and she had to stay behind to keep them from starving. Eventually, it got so bad that they had to sell her to the local barracks, where they hoped she could send them more money from her job as a barmaid. It was hardly the adventurous existence she desired.”

Missus Jones looked even grimmer as she crawled through Belle’s vanity, digging through her special hairbrushes and bows. 

“Anyway, a few years after she left home, this young woman caught the eye of one of the soldiers. And not just any soldier, but the captain of the local battalion. His skills were so great, it was said, that only he could win the people’s war. Surely this hero would be worthy of the young woman - or so the woman thought. As it turned out, he was little more than a spineless coward, too intent on bowing down to his superiors to ever do anything for himself.” 

Missus Jones gave an irritable snort. “He couldn’t even get hard for her.”

Belle’s eyes narrowed. ”Get hard? What does that mean?”

“Oh right, you’re a little lady,” Missus Jones smirked. ”Well, every other girl knows by your age, especially if she’s poor and has to find alternative ways to turn a profit.”

Belle was still confused. Whatever this “getting hard” business was, it sounded terribly unpleasant. She couldn’t see why Missus Jones would want that from her husband.

“Anyway, he went off to war, and the young woman thought she’d finally get the life she wanted. She’d be the wife of a hero, praised and adored by all who looked upon her.”

Missus Jones sounded positively furious now, though it was a chilling sort of fury that left her voice cold and calm. 

“All those dreams went to hell when he deserted. Now, she was left with nothing but a little boy who didn’t care a thing about her and a cowardly husband with no ambition at all.”

Belle couldn’t see her face at the moment as it was buried in a drawer, but she could tell that the woman had started smiling. These rapid mood swings of hers put Belle on edge for reasons she couldn’t name.

“And then one day, a handsome man at the pub bought her a drink. Told her she looked like a goddess and let her sit with his friends. She fell in love with him the moment he kissed her lips. So, the next morning, while her stoop of a husband was working at his spinning - damned woman’s work was the only thing he could do right - she ran for it and stowed away on her true love’s ship. She heard her husband’s voice later, begging for the man let her go, but her lover played the part rather well. He convinced her husband that she was dead or worse, and instead of fighting for her like a real man, he limped his way back home to lie to their son. The woman refused to let herself be upset about it - this was the life she’d always wanted, after all. Let the sniveling coward think she was dead for fear that he’d take her back. How ungrateful would it be if she changed her mind now that she had it? They sailed off into the sunset together in search of loot and new lands. And she and her new mate lived happily ever after. The end.”

Belle sat frozen in shock - this wasn’t the sort of bedtime story she was used to. In the ones that her mama told her, good always won. She didn’t think the woman who won in this story was evil, per se, but good she most certainly wasn’t either. But maybe Missus Jones had just forgotten a part. She cleared her throat and asked, very quietly so as not to disturb her,

“Did she ever go back to her family?”

Missus Jones dropped everything. ”Excuse me?”

“I… I wanted to know if she ever went back to her family.”

Belle didn’t know what she’d done wrong, but it was obviously something horrid. 

“Her family? Didn’t you listen to the story, little girl? The only family I need is my man and his crew! I don’t need some weak, cowardly old man sniffing around my legs or a boy to remind me of all my failures!”

Belle tugged off her comforter, ready to run for help in the face of her nanny’s anger, but the woman was already upon her, leaning over the far edge of the bed.

“Where is your damned necklace?”

Belle backed away, eyes watering with unshed tears when she hit the wall. ”It’s not in there.”

“Then where is it!?”

She shouldn’t have moved - she realized the mistake as soon as she darted for the door. The thin chain around her neck swung out of its hiding place, and the tiny little diamond caught the light from the candles.

“You little sneak!” Missus Jones roared.

Belle grabbed at the doorknob, praying that she could get out and alert the guards before she got hurt. At least, that was the plan - instead, a tall man with dark hair stood in her way, hands wrapped around a cutlass sharp as steel. 

“Hello, my sweet,” he smirked. It took Belle a moment to realize he was speaking to Missus Jones, even though his eyes were locked on hers.

“Don’t let her go,” Missus Jones commanded. ”She’s got a dragon-diamond necklace on her!”

He cocked his head to the side. ”Have you, now?”

He eased the door shut behind him, and Belle wasted no time in racing back to her place at the wall. The man gave her another amused glance before turning his attention to Missus Jones - they didn’t seem to care about her so long as she was safely cornered. 

“Look at all this,” he chuckled, placing an emerald tiara on the woman’s head. ”Very nice haul.”

He drew her in close and pressed his lips to hers, grabbing her by the waist and pinning her to Belle’s dresser as he did. Missus Jones eventually managed to push him off, though he continued to nip at her lips.

“So I did well, love?” she laughed around his tongue. Belle tried not to gag at the sight.

“Brilliant, Milah. I knew you would be - you were born to be a pirate.”

“Pirates!?” Belle shrieked. 

She clapped her hands over her mouth, but it was too late - they’d heard her, and they remembered she was there. Holding her mother’s diamond necklace.

“Yes,” the pirate smirked, taking a deep bow even as he walked ever closer. His eyes sparkled wicked black, and Belle felt her heart jump to her throat in fear. ”Now, be a dear and hand over that pretty necklace.”

It felt like the world slowed down as Belle stared at the pirate’s face, hands shaking and knees threatening to give out. There was an open door to her left, but Missus Jones had already blocked it. The only way out was the window, barely an inch to the right. But they had to be dozens of feet in the air - the thought might kill her. 

Belle took a deep breath and closed her eyes - she couldn’t let this man take her mama’s necklace. If she lived, she intended to keep the one reminder she had of her. And if she died, she’d get to see her mama again for real.

Before the pirate or Missus Jones could stop her, Belle launched herself from the window, holding tight to the bottom of the windowsill to keep from falling. With all the strength she possessed, she swung herself forward, hoping that the wide marble ledge would keep her hidden.

“Where’d she go?” Missus Jones shouted overhead. Belle bit her lip to keep from crying out.

“Looks like she fell. Pity - that necklace would’ve been enough for us to retire on.”

He cursed under his breath, and Belle cringed at how close it sounded. Her fingers were starting to ache - she didn’t know how much longer she could hold on.

“It’s okay, love,” Missus Jones comforted. ”I prefer the adventurous life anyway. Besides, look at what we did get.”

The pirate chuckled. ”Right you are.”

A few moments later, the sound of a slamming door overrode the whistling wind, and Belle allowed herself to cry. She clutched her necklace close, angry that the water had clouded her eyes, and tried to reach for the window frame. For once, she was glad that she’d left the thing open.

She didn’t know how she managed it, but, apart from a single slip from her clumsy feet, she made it safely back into her room. She might’ve collapsed into her bed in relief had her room not felt so tainted.

Belle ran away on stumbling feet, too glad she hadn’t plummeted to her doom to complain about her balance now.

By the time the guards found her, curled into a ball in the larder, the pirate and Missus Jones had already escaped. A letter was sent immediately to Maurice, who was understandably furious and terrified. As for Belle, she was just happy that she’d never have to deal with the woman ever again.

Maurice never hired a new nanny - he was too scared, it seemed, to risk more thieves in his daughter’s life. Instead, she was handed off to the cook and the various maids in hopes that they’d teach her to be their superior. 

Belle was never sure if any of that really helped her. She supposed she’d learned to be a lady well enough (though she still spoke up a good deal more than Gaston and Maurice appreciated). All she knew was that she never wanted to be as cheap and cruel as Missus Jones.


End file.
